Filled with light and love
by Shadow Of Castiel
Summary: Dean gets more than he bargained for while washing the car one sunny day. Rated M for adult content - as it's Dean/Castiel!


Dean hummed Metallica quietly, enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on his back. He smiled to himself, wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaving a thin line of bubbles across the skin of his forehead. He mumbled curses beneath his breath and wiped the bubbles away with the hem of his t shirt before they dripped into his eyes and stung.

He resumed washing the Impala, splashing water, soap suds over the already gleaming surface, scrubbing thoroughly, feeling peace swirl through him, felt relaxed like he hadn't in such a long time. He stopped, stepped back, took a swig of Coke from an already warm can standing off to one side. He stood back, looked over his handiwork, smiling slightly at the gleaming expanse of chrome and black paintwork of his pristine Impala.

He watched the bubbles slide from the hood, hitting the floor in steady droplets, as he quickly glanced around the seemingly deserted salvage yard that Bobby owned. He frowned, wondered why he had the feeling that he was being watched when no one was there, no one was in sight.

"Hello?" he called. "Bobby, that you? Sammy?"

There was no answer. He scanned the serried ranks of piled up cars, broken down carcasses of old cars begging to be reclaimed for other uses. There wasn't any sight or sound of anyone else there, yet still he could feel the strangest feeling of being watched.

"Cas? Hey, Cas, is that you?" Dean asked, turning around on the spot as though willing the angel to step forward and show himself. "Not funny, Cas!"

There was still no answer from anyone, let alone the angel. Dean's brow furrowed, before he shook his head, put the sensation of being watched down to nerves or something. He snorted and rolled his eyes at the thought of actually being nervous after all the things he'd borne witness to in past months alone.

"Yeah, right," he mumbled, before returning to the hood of his Impala.

He washed the bubbles free from the shining paintwork, mindful of streaks being left from the bubbles left too long in the sun. He rubbed, scrubbed, paid special attention to the chrome fender, the radiator grill, still humming Metallica happily. He soon forgot the sensation of being watched, too caught up with caring for his beloved car to pay any more notice to outside influences. Slowly his hand stilled, sponge, wet rag, held between still fingers as he half turned, trying to find the source of the sudden noise behind him.

"Yo! Hey!" he called, slowly getting to his feet, warily glancing around, crouching as though ready for a fight.

He turned, hands outstretched before him, flexed into fists, desperate to see who was watching him, all too ready for a fight if it was someone unwanted. There was no one. All remained still in Bobby's Salvage Yard. Dean shook his head again, but turned away, feeling less relaxed than he had previously. He sighed, sploshed the last of the water on his windshield, scrubbed the bubbles away, left the glass gleaming and glinting in the sunlight. He stood back once more, smiling over a good job finished.

He didn't see it coming, until he was already pushed against the hood of the Impala, cheek resting against the wet, hot paintwork. His breath caught in his throat, called out, tried to turn round but couldn't. Whoever held him trapped there was too strong, too insistent, familiar somehow. Dean closed his eyes, felt himself opening up beneath the invisible onslaught behind him. He tried centering himself, concentrating in readiness to spin, to attack, to regain his balance and composure.

Instead he felt something filter inside him, something cool, unforgiving, alien, yet familiar. He saw bright white light, heard singing, laughter, a myriad angelic voices fluttering around his ears. He gasped at the beauty, the sheer perfection of the being invading him, taking him over piece by piece.

"Cas! Cas," Dean chanted, knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Castiel that was sneaking into his body uninvited.

_Let me in_, he heard Castiel murmur in his ear, in his mind, soft spoken words sliding silkily through Dean's body like an intimate whisper.

_Yes_, Dean murmured back, opening himself up to Castiel without really knowing why.

He hadn't wanted to let Michael in, yet he was letting Castiel inside him. Maybe because it _was_ Castiel, someone he knew, trusted, loved, respected. He didn't know Michael from squat. He gasped beneath the onslaught, felt Castiel fill him, angelic presence fill him from head to toe and invading his senses with light, with beauty, with perfection.

Again, Dean heard the singing, the laughter, as though choirs of angels were singing solely to him, soothing him and sending him peacefully on his way and his soul rejoiced at the sound.

_This is what it's like all the time when you're an angel_, Castiel's voice purred through Dean's mind, reassuring him, made Dean's dick stiffen with the sheer intimacy of the epithet. _The singing of Heaven is always with you, even someone like me. _

Dean didn't reply, couldn't reply, felt too joyous with the sounds of angels, the presence of Castiel inside him, too taken up with the feel of Castiel inside him. It felt perfect, secretive, beautiful, an experience far above and beyond anything he'd ever felt before, even with Castiel. He cried out, tried grasping something, anything, but there was nothing there to hold onto. His hands remained empty, unfulfilled as Castiel coiled through him, pure essence and light shifting through Dean's body, touching Dean in places he'd never been touched before.

Dean cried out again, hips arching from the hood of his car, as the angel riding him touched against Dean's back, manipulated the flesh between the hunter's shoulder blades in just the way that Dean liked it. He cried out again, hips arching still further when he felt Castiel touch the secret place at the small of Dean's back, fingers caressing gently at soft skin..

He opened up still further to Castiel, let the angel have full control, felt Castiel touch him, hands manipulating responsive flesh in places only Dean knew he liked. He felt the sudden impression of lips kissing against the top of his thigh, near his straining erection, sending shudders through him.

"_Again,"_ Dean whimpered, and felt the unmistakable feel of Castiel's joy, his shimmering laughter as the angel repeated the gesture, pressing invisible lips against the top of Dean's thigh more firmly.

Dean cried out again, arousal apparent in his voice, tried to grab at Castiel but couldn't when Castiel was inside him, inhabiting his body like a shell.

"CAS," Dean shouted, body arching when he felt the sensation of Castiel take his dick into his mouth and started sucking him off.

Simultaneously, he felt places touched, manipulated, stroked, everywhere that Dean knew he liked to be touched in, sending intense pleasure coursing through his body. It was the most intense feel of pleasure he'd ever felt and he succumbed to it, felt joy like he'd never known before bloom in his heart, his soul, his mind.

He screamed for Castiel, felt his orgasm physically pulled from his body as he released his come into Castiel's invisible, unseen mouth, into his boxers. He lay back against the hood of his Impala, spent, sated, weak, satisfied beyond all words. He lay limp, boneless, gasping in the heat of the day as he felt Castiel pull away from him, recede and Dean reached out, protesting the loss of Castiel. He wanted the angel to remain with him, to do that all over again.

He couldn't stop Castiel; the angel was gone, had left him and Dean was alone once again, but felt more pleasured than he'd ever felt in his whole life. He lifted his head, when he heard a chuckle from nearby, saw Castiel back in Jimmy's body once again, smiling at Dean. He seemed lit from within, his smile both mysterious and open, pleased, like the cat who'd gotten the proverbial cream.

"Why?" Dean panted out, struggling to sit upright, shoulders slumping with the weight of his aroused weariness.

"I wanted to see what turned you on, what I could do for you in this form," Castiel said, gesturing to his own body with one hand.

"Couldn't you have just asked me what I liked, Cas?" Dean asked, in disbelief. "You know, like, when we were in bed together?"

"No amount of words can truly account for the emotions, the thoughts involved behind each action, Dean. I needed to see what truly turned you on, what you really liked, and how exactly you wanted it," he said. "Merely telling me wouldn't have given me the proper sense of how you liked things. I wouldn't have know the exact spot at the top of your thigh for instance."

Dean looked down, looked up, then nodded agreeably.

"Okay, I can see your point," he said, grudgingly. "Give a guy warning next time, though, okay?"

"It would have lessened the pleasure to both you and me, Dean," Castiel replied, with a slight uplift to his lips that formed a gentle, loving smile.

Dean slumped, knew that Castiel had a point, once again.

"And before you ask, of course I knew you could take me inside you. You're Michael's vessel and Michael's far stronger, more powerful than me. I'm a baby against Michael," Castiel said, coming over to stroke Dean's face affectionately.

"I wouldn't have said that, Cas," Dean said, eyes travelling towards Castiel's pants meaningfully.

Castiel actually laughed at that, before he said - "You knew what I meant, Dean."

"Hey, do you think Michael would do what you just did to me?" Dean asked, teasingly, turning his uplifted brows to Castiel's suddenly glaring face.

"If he did, I will be forced to smite him, archangel or not! No one else touches you but me," he said, angrily.

"I was joking, Cas," Dean said, with a laugh, as he slid embracing arms around Castiel's waist. "As if I'd let Michael do what you just did. I don't want anyone else but you."

He leant forward, pressed gentle lips against Castiel's soft, sweet mouth, received a kiss in return from the angel. He tasted like Castiel, like beauty and perfection, everything that Dean wanted and craved. He laced fingers through Castiel's dark hair, pulled the angel on top of him and laid upon the hood of the Impala. He felt Castiel settle against him, one hand braced against the freshly washed bodywork, the other resting lovingly against Dean's neck.

Dean shuddered against Castiel's hand, loved the feel of his fingers caressing the sensitive skin of his neck in just the right spot that he liked. He lost himself to Castiel, felt the angel consumed in turn by the kiss. Neither were planning on moving for a very long time to come, and both were content in each other's company.

The sun shone down upon them both, bathing them in glorious warm light, sending warm, sparkling rays down onto the kissing lovers ....

_-fini-_


End file.
